Quiet is not a sound or a lack of sound for me. It is a place I go. I can choose quiet and go there any time I like. Today, for example, I went there.
I'm a mother of five children, aged nine to twenty-two. Today they were coming and going, working and playing, singing and dancing, practicing and performing. There was noise of sharing stories and practicing languages and learning songs. Inside my head, there was the noise of bills and deposits and withdrawals and files and papers and on and on.
I couldn't think a straight line.
So I chose quiet.
Deep breath. Do one thing. Take your time. Listen to yourself.
Do you hear it?
Quiet. I found it, in a grocery store aisle, not on a shelf, but inside myself as I found food for bodies and refreshment for my spirit.
Isn't it strange how rest can come in the midst of work, and quiet in the midst of noise?